THE GREAT CHANCE
Now strikes the hour upon the clock
The black sheep may rebuild the years:
May lift the father's pride he broke
And wipe away his mother's tears.
To him, the mark for thrifty scorn,
God hath another chance to give,
Sets in his heart a flame new-born
By which his muddied soul may live.
This is the day of the prodigal,
The decent people's shame and grief,
When he shall make amends for all.
The way to Glory's bloody and brief.
Clean from his baptism of blood,
New from the fire he springs again,
In shining raiment white and good,
Beyond the wise, home-keeping man.